


Perchance to Dream?

by NotAnAngel97



Category: Black Sails
Genre: I cannot stress how soft this is, London era, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex, Smut, like so soft, soft, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 18:59:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15914325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAnAngel97/pseuds/NotAnAngel97
Summary: Thomas's days were consumed with politics and debate, with endless discussions of strategies and pardon. But his nights?His nights were for James.





	Perchance to Dream?

**Author's Note:**

> Pops up out of nowhere: Surprise bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.
> 
> So Black Sails literally stole my heart, so have a little soft piece, where Thomas is super in love with James and James is utterly adorable, because these two deserve nice things.
> 
> No beta, so feel free to point out any errors

Outside, gusty winds and a smattering of rain had grown into a fierce storm, the likes of which London had rarely seen. The wind howled and shrieked.  Unrelenting sleet and rain hammered against the windowpanes. Merciless and torrential. Jagged bolts of lightning tore the sky apart, as rolling thunder boomed and bellowed.

But inside Thomas’s bedroom, the tempest raging outside might as well have been a thousand miles away. Flickering candles bathed the room, illuminating it with a soft, warm glow. Thick drapes were drawn across the windows, blocking out the horrendous weather and creating a quiet oasis of calm.

A safe haven for two lovers amidst the chaos.

 

The positive _purr_ James gave at Thomas’s hand tenderly scratching at his scalp, the manner in which he arched up into his touch… it stole his breath away. If he was being truly honest with himself, Thomas still could scarce believe that this wonderful man was _his_. James’s head burrowed deeper into his lap, the most wondrous green eyes blinking sleepily up at him.

‘Falling asleep on me, Lieutenant?’ Thomas murmured, tangling his fingers in James’ silken strands. He warmly recalled the fervour with which he had freed it from it’s tidy queue, in the heat of their passion only hours before. Miranda had joined them, and oh, what a truly spectacular tryst the three of them had shared.

Concerned that they had both been neglecting Miranda of late, he and James had elected to _lavish_ her with all their attentions. They wrung orgasm after orgasm from her, until she swore she’d die if she had to come once more. Only then did Thomas and James allow themselves to seek their own release.

James riding his cock, Miranda directing them. She their queen and they her most humble servants… it had truly been magnificent.

 

‘Wouldn’t-’ James stifled a yawn, ‘dream of it, my lord.’ Thomas hummed, unconvinced. With a reluctant groan, James made as if to roll away. Thomas tutted his disapproval.

‘And where do you think you’re going?’ Thomas admonished, giving James’s hair a gentle tug.

James let a soft whine slip through his lips and all but collapsed back down to his previous position; sprawled on his stomach across their (and how it delighted Thomas to call it _theirs,_ to share it with this beautiful man more nights than not) bed, his head pillowed in Thomas’ lap. Thomas’ very own ginger tom.

Thomas himself was propped upright. Back braced against the headboard, Don Quixote sat in his right hand. Turning the pages proved a struggle with only one free hand but Thomas wouldn’t trade the wonderful sounds escaping James’s lips as Thomas played with his hair for all the world.

After a few disastrous attempts at teaching the lieutenant Spanish (in which lessons were sidelined in favour of a _much_ more favourable use for the lieutenant’s clever mouth), James had rather given up on learning to read Spanish for the time being. Therefore the task of actually reading his wife’s witty gift fell to Thomas, with James soaking up every word.

Usually the lieutenant made for an attentive audience. Tonight however, James appeared utterly spent. He pushed himself so hard, Thomas mused. In every aspect of his life, James always needed to be doing more.

Of course, Thomas reminded himself, his James had fought his way up in a society that seemed determined to knock him back down, to where it deemed he belonged. One didn’t manage such a feat without drive and determination.

 

James groaned. ‘If I don’t leave now, I don’t think I’ll muster the strength to leave at all.’ Despite his words, he made no further moves to rise.

‘Then don’t leave.’ Thomas countered, lips curling into a smug smile.

_‘Thomas.’_ Fond exasperation coloured James’s voice.

Thomas sighed. ‘It’s frightful outside, you’ll catch your death.’

‘I’m a sailor, Thomas. I’ve sailed ships through squalls far greater than this.’

_‘James_.’ Now Thomas was the exasperated one. ‘Please?’ He asked sincerely, dropping his teasing demeanor. James huffed, the warm breath tickling Thomas’s chest.

‘Alright.’ James conceded.

Loosening his grip on James’ ruffled locks, Thomas absently began to smooth them down. James gave an appreciative hum and Thomas watched as he let his weary eyes flutter shut.

Enough of windmills and ferocious giants for tonight, Thomas decided.

Marking the page with a slip of paper, he deposited the book on the bedside table and rubbed at his strained eyes. He stretched his arms, wincing at the crack of his joints from having sat still for so long.

‘I do believe I'm getting old!’ Thomas bemoaned.

James rolled his eyes, mouth curling up into a half-smirk. ‘Well, I didn’t want to say anything, but now that you mention it…’ He teased.

Thomas batted at him playfully. ‘Why, you insolent-! I’ll have you know I am in the prime of my life!’

‘Of course, my lord,’ His tone utterly irreverent, James grinned up at him (and such a bright and magnificent smile was never seen, Thomas did declare) before heaving himself up off Thomas’s lap. Before Thomas could complain, James was tugging at him. Allowing himself to be maneuvered, Thomas soon found himself lying down properly on the bed, James pressed up against his left side. Their legs tangled together beneath the sheets.

Thomas tucked one arm behind his head and used the other to draw James close. The other man settled comfortably on the planes of Thomas’s chest, fingers absently tracing patterns into his skin. A warm tingling trailed after his touch, and Thomas let out a content sigh. His eyes drifting shut, he basked in the warmth radiating from his lover. His heart felt fit to burst; from love, of course, but also with a fierce pride. To see his once-reticent James, whose every touch before hesitant and fearful, now so confident and so sure in Thomas’s love for him. And surer still in his own feelings for Thomas. 

Shifting the arm cradling James to his chest, he began to mimic the other man’s actions. His own fingers traced patterns among the scattered sea of freckles that graced the pale skin. James moaned softly and let his fingers trail lower along Thomas’s abdomen. Thomas gave a brief huff of amusement.

‘And here I thought Miranda and I had finally worn you out, Lieutenant.’

James’s infectious grin only grew wider. ‘Not quite _._ Came close though.’

Craning his neck, James pressed his lips to Thomas's skin and began to pepper open-mouthed kisses along Thomas’s chest. Thomas’s hand slid in response down James’s skin until it was loosely gripping his hip. The arm propped behind his head moved until Thomas found himself cupping James’s jaw. James angled his head slightly. Now those gorgeous lips pressed a single gentle kiss to Thomas’s palm. Thomas swept along James’s plump lips with his thumb, humming in appreciation.

‘God, but you are beautiful,’ Thomas thought to himself. James blushed, a truly wondrous rosy hue, and ducked his head with embarrassment. With a start, Thomas realized he must have uttered that last sentiment aloud.

James’s teeth nipped at the pale expanse of Thomas’s chest as he worked his way up, eliciting moans of pleasure as his mouth suckled the tender skin. Slowly reaching Thomas’s face, Thomas found his lips captured in a hungry kiss. Thomas slipped his hand between James’s legs and curled his fingers around his cock. James positively _mewled._ The sound travelled right to Thomas’s own hardening cock. His lips seized James’ in a hungry kiss. Capturing James’s tongue, he suckled on it tentatively. James’s hips gave a harsh buck in response.

And then James’s hand was wrapping around Thomas’s length and Thomas saw stars. He gasped breathlessly as coarse fingers began to tug at his stiff cock; tentative at first, but soon growing in confidence, spurred on by his groans of pleasure.

James’s own breathy moans began to grow in volume. His thighs spread themselves wider as he whimpered under the increasing pace and power of Thomas’s hand. It became a race between the two; who could make the other fall apart first?

Thomas loved a challenge.

James gave a strangled wail and bucked hard as Thomas picked up the pace. Casting his head back, James’s eyes squeezed shut.

No, Thomas decided. That just wouldn’t do.

He wanted to look into James’s stunning green eyes as he came.

‘Keep your eyes open for me, my love.’ Thomas murmured into James’s ear. His teeth latched onto the lobe and gave it a quick nip. James was keening now, drawn out, soft cries rising in volume, hips rocking in time to Thomas’s thrusts.

His own hand continued to pump Thomas’s pulsing cock, pace never once faltering, even as his body thrashed under Thomas’s attentions.

Eyes flying open, James utterly bewitched Thomas. Heated gazes locked and nothing could have forced Thomas’s eyes away.

With a sudden, raw sob, James came hard, spilling himself all over Thomas’s lap. He collapsed helplessly against Thomas. Thomas groaned at the sudden, utterly pliant weight upon his chest, the hand around his cock jerking rapidly. And that was all it took. With his own choked cries, Thomas let himself chase his own pleasure, coming only an instant later.

Thomas took a few moments to compose himself. He felt completely sated, draped back across a mess of pillows and twisted sheets, gazing up to the ceiling as he panted heavily. Lord knows, Thomas loved Miranda, with her wit and charm and brain and beauty. But, James? Thomas had never known he could love another person like this. Like his heart wasn’t even his own anymore. The most apt of quotes came to him, from the deep recesses of his mind.

‘One half of me is yours, the other half is yours,’ Thomas murmured, half in a daze. ‘Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours.’

Burying his face in mussed ginger strands, he planted a kiss on the top of James’s head.

‘And so all yours.' He mouthed.

‘Hmmm?’ James so eloquently inquired. It would appear as though his faculties were beginning to return.

Thomas shook his head. ‘Nothing, my love.’

He felt truly privileged that James allowed him to see him like this; sprawled across his chest, shaking, a light sheen of sweat coating his trembling skin and utterly blissful. Permitting himself to be vulnerable was something James struggled with, even if only with Thomas. This unguarded moment? To Thomas, it was everything.

And then James gave such a yawn, it startled both men. Thomas could nearly hear the jaw creaking from the force of it. An instant later, Thomas could feel his own yawn building and fought to wrest it back, giving only a breathless laugh. James joined in with his low chuckle and soon the pair were giggling like children. Giving his head a light shake, Thomas fought back the laughter. He gently kissed James’s forehead, smoothing back stray strands.

‘I think it’s time for bed,’ James conceded.

‘Mmm, I rather agree.’ Thomas answered, arms tightening their grip around James. He cradled his love close to him.

His lips capturing James’s, the two men revelled in each other. They allowed the more passionate atmosphere in the room to simply dissolve away, leaving them to just bask in each others being. Swapping slow, lazy kisses until the candles were burned low and the sweet allure of sleep had crept upon them.

 James fell first to its seductive sway. Breathing slowing, his head sank into the crook of Thomas’s neck. The darkening room silent save for his soft snuffles.

 Thomas himself held out a little longer. He wished to extend the simple pleasure in just holding James close. Part of him wanted to spend every night and every day just drinking in the sight of his beautiful lover. God, but he was a love-struck fool.  

But sleep is a temptress not easily resisted and Thomas could feel himself falling prey to her spell. His eyes fluttered shut, his breathing grew slower, and Thomas allowed himself to drift into a light doze.

Before sleep could finally take her hold of him, Thomas found himself murmuring a quiet prayer into the night.

 

‘Watch over him, Lord, for he is more dear to me than life itself.’

**Author's Note:**

> My English teacher would be so proud that the random bits of literature that stuck in my brain five years later were used to help Thomas gush over James.
> 
> You know the drill, I'd love some kudos, love a comment even more. Hope you enjoyed!!


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